Braxton Campus Mysteries Collection - Books 5-8

Chapter 1-3

Construction of a new wing on the building had been in process. Workers had finished early and already left the site. The protest was most volatile directly outside the oldest part of the library, but the Chief of the Fire Department was never sure how the blaze had started. Multiple people had witnessed Prudence enter the library during the demonstration, yet they never saw her exit.

“Your father was there, Kellan. He was only a teenager but remembers all the commotion. It was awful, and although no one actually died,” my mother began, casting a warning glance at Nana D, “it caused widespread damage and delayed the library"s renovation plans. By the time everything sorted itself out, the temperature had grown too frigid to break ground again.”

actually“What does this have to do with Prudence Grey haunting my new house?” I sighed, unable to decipher the connection between the two events. Time to further reel in the busybody yentas.

“Patience, brilliant one. I"m getting there,” Nana D rebuked, waggling a finger in my direction. “Prudence vanished. Hiram never spoke with her after he"d left the house that morning. The last place he saw his wife was allegedly carting a box into your basement. She loved that home so much… at least she"s not stuck haunting someone else.” Nana D wearily glanced downward, fanning herself.

“It"s possible that Prudence got trapped in the library and died in the fire. The winds were gusty that day and made the whole tragedy hard to contain. The firemen checked as soon as the opportunity presented itself but never found a body. All hearsay, since I was hardly out of diapers,” my mother added with a wink, eyeing the second round of fragrant pumpkin pies Nana D retrieved from the oven.

possible“Hiram claims Prudence suffered from a severe depression that prevented her from being a proper mother to Damien.” Nana D grew lost in the heartbreaking tale, eyes deep with remorse and regret. “I didn"t know her well, but Prudence was an innocent young lady before she"d married that fool and suffered his folly. Men suck. Don"t they, Violet, dear?”

claims“I"m not sure I understand. What precisely are you suggesting happened to Prudence? Is she buried under the library and moonlighting as a vengeful spirit in my new digs?”

“That"s the fifty-year-old mystery. Hiram moved out the next day and into the Grey estate with his family. No one"s ever heard from Prudence since then, and everyone who"s dared to live there flees within a week after complaining about peculiar noises and unexplained apparitions.”

“Didn"t you think to tell me that part before I bought the place?” I shot an emphatic gander of frustration and shock at my nana for her borderline treachery. Exhaustion had made me irritable.

Upon finishing her coffee, my mother placed the cup and saucer in the sink. “I don"t believe in all that hooey phooey. Hiram waited the necessary time to declare her legally dead, then he remarried. For all intents and purposes, Prudence is long gone. You shouldn"t worry.”

“But you think she"s haunting me because I bought her house?” I growled at Nana D.

you“I assume Hiram got away with killing her. Prudence"s spirit must be restless, stuck inside the last place she lived before dying so dreadfully. I doubt she"ll hurt you,” Nana D suggested impishly while patting my hand. “Just be considerate of sharing her space, and I"m sure it"ll turn out fine.”

My mother tut-tutted. “Hiram can be ruthless, but no one suspects the judge of murder.”

Were they for real? At the very least, I deserved to know this tidbit of history before Nana D had convinced me to buy the place. My mind theorized outlandish scenarios about what could"ve happened to Prudence Grey. I"d been known to investigate suspicious deaths ever since moving home to Braxton earlier that year, but I had zero time to explore a fifty-year-old cold case.

“How"d the Fall Festival meeting go?” Nana D interrupted, her brow wrinkled and mouth hanging slightly open, ardently waiting for a response.

“Belinda Grey was obstinate and ferocious. I think you underestimated how angry she"d be when you declared us the head of the planning committee.” My mother ruffled through her gargantuan purse for the car keys. Did she hide an entire cornucopia of useless clutter in there?

“Belinda was derogatory all morning long.” I recalled how Hiram Grey"s second wife had also refused to congratulate us on securing Madam Zenya as the upcoming spectacular"s resident psychic.

“Hiram and Belinda Grey were perfect for each other. I could tell you stories about that churlish woman. Too bad that cantankerous old judge feels the need to find a new spouse every few years. Five sons with six wives makes him a menace to society.” Nana D reminded us that our local magistrate was a modern-day Henry VIII, only instead of beheading his wives, he compelled them to disappear. “Some were probably murdered like Prudence. He tortured the others until each caved in to escape his tyranny.” She chuckled aloud, then lifted her old-fashioned, canary-yellow phone from the wall.

disappear“He just divorced number six last year, right?” my mother nonchalantly questioned.

Nana D counted the judge"s wives by using the fingers on one hand, running out of digits after the fifth. “Yup. They seem to get younger each time. Now, skedaddle. I"ve got calls to make.”

Once my mother left, Emma, Baxter, and I visited our new house. Although it was the weekend, Nicky had paid his team overtime to tile the bathroom and install the kitchen plumbing. I parked the car and suggested Emma lead Baxter into the enclosed side yard to play fetch. A bulky, hairy spider had woven a fresh maze of silky webs across the front porch, swaying in the gentle breeze from my hasty approach. It cautiously sat in the center and bundled its most recent prey in a sticky clump of white threads, staring and mocking me to swat it, if I dared. As soon as I ducked and strode through the door, Nicky anxiously approached me with his grease-stained palm glued to his forehead.

“Kellan, I"ve called for hours. Didn"t you get my messages?” Exasperation clung to the young contractor"s words. His awkward body language denoted something disastrous had occurred.

Grabbing the phone from my pocket, I realized I had accidentally turned it off. “No, I"m sorry. What"s going on? Is there an issue with construction?”

Nicky repeatedly shook his head and pursed his tense, thin lips. “No, you better see this for yourself. Follow me.” While dragging me through the main hallway toward the basement entrance, my impassioned contractor agitatedly explained how he and his crew had shown up at ten o"clock. “We let ourselves in using the only key to the front door. Look at what awaited us.”

My heart immediately raced like a bustling train as I absorbed the pungent scent of shock hovering stiffly in the room. In the same red paint I"d rolled on the walls in Ulan"s bedroom, someone had written a scraggly message on the locked basement door.

Stay away or suffer a gruesome death!

Stay away or suffer a gruesome death!